Long Lost Part of Me
by Oneturtledove
Summary: If home is where the heart is, then his wears pajamas, fluffy socks, and glasses while eating Chinese food right out of the carton.


Disclaimer: Brazzlefrat.

Spoilers: Bendenschnitz.

A/N: "You're like coming home" by Lonestar. I had this story started about three years ago, and I just found it under my bed today. I liked it, so I prettied it up and this is what came out. Enjoy.

* * *

Mulder grumbled to himself as he sat down in the small airport chair. His flight was delayed at least three hours, due to weather or something else inconvenient in the Midwest. If he happened to get a flight out tonight, he would never make it back to DC at a decent hour. Scully would not be happy with that. At all. He smiled as he thought of her reaction. Hands on her hips, a furrowed brow, deep sighs, but a tiny spark in her eye so he would know that the anger was short lived. She'd be happier to see him than upset about the inconvenience.

They seen each other in a week or talked in three days. A case had taken him to LA, and prior obligations kept her in DC. He hated being on a case without her. She supported him, watched his back, and most importantly, she made him smile. Nothing was the same without her. He felt like a man who had a steak, but only a spoon to eat with.

Despite the hassle of working alone, he did enjoy coming home to her. It could have just been the fact that he missed her. He missed the way her eyebrow flicked up at him when she was disgruntled. He missed the smell of her hair when he stole a moment to get a little closer to her. He missed the moment when he could catch her eye across the room. He missed the sound of her voice when she got sleepy and how she was flirty when her guard was down. He missed standing next to her and knowing that even a full foot shorter, she could knock him flat if she really wanted to.

Admittedly, though he didn't live there and rarely spent the night, he thought of her apartment as home. He felt like he belonged there, just as he felt that they belonged side by side. And he really wanted to go home right now.

Sometimes they cook dinner together. She relegates him to tossing a salad and setting the table, but it is enough to just be near her. He jumps up on the counter and they talk about meaningless things as dinner cooks. Every once in a while she lets him test the food, her left hand reaching out to steady his chin as she brings the spoon to his mouth. In any other situation it would be such an intimate gesture, but for them, it just is. That's how it's always been.

Intimacy for them is found in the silence of hospital rooms, in the slight pressure of a forehead kiss, in the non-conversations of long car rides. It is found in the dark of a hotel room, when the case has been too hard and the nightmares are forefront, and they both just need to be held. It is found in their eyes, when there is so much to be said, but no words that are quite good enough. It is found in a shared joke over a plate of fries at three in the morning, when sleep eludes both of them and trivial subjects seem to really matter. It comes in not saying hello or goodbye, because the dialogue is constant, even through hours of quiet.

A tinny voice came over the intercom, announcing that the flight to DC had been cancelled. It was time to face the music. They had a lot of paper work to catch up on, and this just meant she would have to do more of it herself. He sighed and dialed her number anyway.

"Mulder, are you home yet?" she answered, just before the phone went to voicemail.

"Not yet. Flight was cancelled. I know that kind of screws things up for all that paperwork."

"Don't worry about it. I've been sick in bed all day, so I got a lot done."

"You're sick?"

"Sinus headache. I'm feeling a lot better."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Alright. I'm going to go check with some other airlines about a flight home. I'll let you know what if I get anything for tonight."

"I'll be here when you get here."

"Somehow, I knew you would be."

He was smiling as he hung up, and made his way to the ticket counter.

* * *

As it turned out, he didn't get a flight home until the next afternoon. He had seriously been considering taking a train, at least partway, but mostly just wanted to get home, and figured it would be a better idea to just stick it out at the airport. He felt grimy, sore, and grumpy by the time he landed at Dulles, but not so much that he wanted to go to his apartment first.

He juggled the bags in his hands and tried to get the key in the lock. He'd been unsuccessful for the last three minutes, and was about to give up and put the bags on the ground when the door swung open.

"I thought that was you," Scully said, blowing a strand of hair off of her forehead. "Why didn't you just come in?"

"Did you not notice that I am laden down with Chinese food?"

She sighed and stepped away to let him in the door. She was wearing big fluffy socks instead of shoes and he grinned at the height difference.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Much. I think I just needed some rest."

He set the bags on the table then turned around to look at her. She was wearing pink flannel pants and an elbow length gray top. Her glasses were on, and her still damp, slightly curled hair was pulled into a half ponytail. She didn't have makeup on, but just by looking at her, he never would have known that she spent the entire day in bed.

"Are you going to stop staring at me long enough to eat, or should I just get comfortable?"

"Sorry."

She smirked and put the kettle on to boil while he pulled the cardboard containers out of the bag.

"I got hot and sour soup. Hopefully that will knock the cold right out of you."

"Thanks."

"Couch?"

"Yeah."

He took the boxes out to the coffee table while she made them some tea.

"They forgot the chopsticks," he hollered, just as she started to bring the mugs in.

"I've got some."

She detoured back into the kitchen and retrieved some chopsticks from the drawer before joining him on the couch.

"So did you come straight from the airport?" she asked in a slightly accusing tone.

He shrugged and picked a peanut out of the kung-pao chicken.

"Missed you."

She chuckled and drew her knees up to her chest, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind her ear.

"We weren't apart _that_ long ," she stated, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

"I know. But I kind of like you."

"Well, thanks."

He grabbed the remote, then handed her a cup of soup and a spoon. Their hands brushed during the exchange, and rather than a tingle or a jolt of electricity, it simply gave him a feeling of familiarity and contentment.

"So what's on this time of night?"

"You'd know that better than I would, Mr. TV Guide."

"Maybe so."

"Watch whatever you want. I don't mind."

He flipped through the channels for a minute before he found some old Warner Brothers cartoons.

"I didn't know you could watch these any time besides Saturday morning."

"Are you kidding? What do you think I've been watching all day?"

"_The Young and the Restless_."

"Well, maybe a little."

He smiled and exchanged the kung-pao chicken for the rice.

"I really did miss you, four eyes."

She smiled and slid her reading glasses off, putting them on the end table next to the phone.

"You must have been really bored or in trouble if you had time to miss me."

He reached out and squeezed her knee.

"I missed you because you're always around, and then I look up and you're gone and it's like… part of me isn't there."

"Mulder, are you drunk?"

"How come whenever I'm straight with you, you question my motives?"

"I don't know, but it's not fair, is it?"

"No, it's not."

"I'm sorry. I'll stop."

He smiled and grabbed an eggroll.

"I really do mean what I said, Scully."

"I know you do. It's just that…"

"What?"

"We don't say those things to each other."

"Why don't we?"

She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Because we don't. We just don't."

"But why?"

"We never have. It's always just been understood. Does saying it make it more real?"

"Am I not allowed to say it?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you're uncomfortable with it, and that's why you turn it into a joke."

"I apologized for that, Mulder."

"I didn't mean for this to turn into a fight."

"Neither did I."

He sighed and rubbed at his eyes.

"Do over. Hey Scully, I kind of missed you this week."

"You know what? I kind of missed you too. I'm glad you're home."

"Me too. Anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

"Not remotely. Well, Bill and Tara are in town, but that's of no interest to you."

"Yes it is. I need to know where to hide until he's gone."

She chuckled because it was true. Her brother was not an easy sell when it came to anything, much less Mulder. Bill had expressed his feelings on more than one occasion, and even though he knew he didn't know it all, he would never admit that there was a chance he was wrong. He was a Scully through and through.

"They're staying with mom and I already saw them, so you don't have to worry about anything. They leave the day after tomorrow."

"Anything else?"

"Same old, same old. How was your case?"

"Not as bad as I thought it was going to be. Nothing out of the ordinary though. Burglars working in tandem. I could have used your help though."

"I wish I could have gone with you."

"Next time, I promise."

"As always."

He noticed that his hand was still on her knee, but she didn't seem to mind, so he kept it there.

"Scully, you'd tell me if you were getting bored, right?"

"With?"

"Work."

"I'd tell you."

"Just checking."

She smiled and they finished their dinner in relative quiet, half paying attention to the exploits of Sylvester and Tweety.

"You look tired," Mulder mentioned as Scully settled her empty take out carton on the coffee table. He reached over and grazed his hand over her back gently. It was the one action he could get away with without explanation.

"I should probably go to bed," she agreed, fighting a yawn.

"I clean this up and lock the door when I leave."

"Thanks," she said, leaning over to hug him. "I'm glad you're home."

She sighed and settled into his chest, apparently content there. He kept his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. He was glad to be home too.

_Ridin' restless under broken sky,  
Weary traveller, somethin' missin' inside,  
Always lookin' for a reason to turn around.  
Desperate for a little peace of mind.  
Just a little piece of what I left behind:  
Well, I found it now: you're like coming home._

_You're like a Sunday mornin', pleasin' my eyes;  
You're a midsummer's dream under a star-soaked sky.  
That peaceful easy feelin' at the end of a long, long road.  
You're like coming home;  
You're like coming home, all right._

_Go head an' let your hair fall down.  
This wanderlust: it's gone now.  
I'm here in your arms; I'm safe from the road again.  
These are the days that can't be erased:  
Baby, there isn't a better place;  
You're like heaven: you're like coming home._

_You're like a Sunday mornin', pleasin' my eyes;  
You're a midsummer's dream under a star-soaked sky.  
That peaceful easy feelin' at the end of a long, long road.  
You're like coming home;_

_You're that innocence, that serenity,  
That long-lost part of me._

_You're like a Sunday mornin', pleasin' my eyes;  
A midsummer's dream under a star-soaked sky.  
That peaceful easy feelin' at the end of a long, long road._

_You're like a Sunday mornin', pleasin' my eyes;  
You're a midsummer's dream under a star-soaked sky.  
That peaceful easy feelin' at the end of a long, long road.  
You're like coming home, yeah.  
You're like coming home;  
Baby, like coming home;  
You're like coming home._


End file.
